


if hearts could speak

by xundaeism



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-18 15:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21279335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xundaeism/pseuds/xundaeism
Summary: Baekhyun can see smells, and Sehun's might be his favourite.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Oh Sehun
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89
Collections: round 1。





	if hearts could speak

**Author's Note:**

> prompt no. 31 of the north wind and the sun, a sebaek fic fest.

Empty. His aluminium container is empty. No mints in sight, and the one in his mouth dissolves quicker than light.

Oh, Lord. What is he going to do?

He should leave. Yes… but come on, he hasn't even met The Man yet. 

He's not surprised, though, given this mansion is big enough to accommodate a crowd of thousands of people. Of course, today's guests are no crowd. They can't be called a crowd because they're at the top of the top.

From Francoise Bettencourt to Leonard Lauder, Ugbad Andi to Miranda Kerr. Now, more than ever, Baekhyun is sure he got invited by accident. He is getting a reputation in the industry, little by little, but as of now, next to all those figures: he's a nobody.

Oh, fuck.

Sweat is awry chartreuse chevron over diffused cyan. Smoke is indian red and periwinkle ombre filled with small blurred polka dots, possibly beige, possibly ivory. The man sitting beside him, at the cocktail bar, is dark khaki led lights—if that makes any sense. Nobody likes dark khaki led lights.

Baekhyun gets up. He needs a drink, or two. Every smell he ignored, every colour he paid no mind for the past hour, orbits through his senses and attempts to destroy the single piece of sanity he has left.

"Blushing Bellini, please," he shouts to the bartender, as calm as he can. In the meantime, the taste and smell of mint fade.

Mint doesn't match any colour, it's rather foggy on the corners of his eyes, like a dream.

A castle in the air.

A vanishing castle now. 

Two minutes, that's all. He can do it.

Shapes, colours, textures and concepts he can't explain veil his entire mind. It's the mixed perfume of one hundred people in his nostrils, like denim, organza and chiffon on one same ball gown.

Gross.

"Enjoy, Mr. Byun."

Baekhyun shoots a quick glance to the bartender and a long one to the glass passing to his hand.

"Thanks." His slender fingers grab the stem and pour a sip of the drink abruptly through his lips.

Alcohol is neutrality; no hue, no pattern, no motion. Peach is pristine white and the darkest black.

"Thank you," he mutters, directly to the drink.

"You're welcome," someone says.

Salmon and pale aqua under platinum glitter.

What is that?

Before Baekhyun gets the chance to look up he's already seeing the most beautiful pattern he's ever detected. It's odd, because he sees it first and smells it second, when it should be the other way around.

"I believe we haven't been introduced," the voice says. "Oh Sehun, nice to meet you, and thank you for coming."

Baekhyun can't believe his eyes when the pastel luster distorts, hugging and hovering around the big figure of Oh Sehun. The Oh Sehun.

"Byun Baekhyun," he replies. "Nice to _finally_ meet you, too. Thank you for the invite. I gotta accept I was taken aback when I received the envelope in the mail."

His hand reaches and meets Sehun's in the middle, a solid but soothing grip, because he remembers reading about social etiquette. 'Be firm, never unkind.'

"How could I pass on the hottest rising designer of Asia?" Sehun's eyes glisten playfully below the turquoise neon lights. "It's already a shame I'm meeting you at my retirement party and didn't get the chance of working with you."

Baekhyun looks down. _You gotta stop_, he tells himself.

"You would've been wonderful for my upcoming season campaign."

You _really_ gotta stop.

"Spring?" Sehun gets a little closer.

Oh, Lord. Don't. 

Baekhyun nods.

"I have been told I possess quite a fresh, winsome appeal. Sounds perfect for spring." Sehun bubbles as his body shifts to the side, resting his back and elbows on the cocktail bar, blocking the smell and view of khaki-leds-man.

To his delight, who he likes is all in sight.

Sehun is wearing a dark tuxedo blazer, perchance midnight blue, or indigo; satin or silk. He can't really tell under the lights. Nothing underneath. Unbuttoned all the way. A cummerbund of —probably— the same colour as the blazer, shielding his belly button, which Baekhyun has only seen in pictorials.

Of the bottoms he can't see much: dark, the fit looks tight and the fabric looks sheeny. Might be leather.

Around his neck wraps a black thin strap, that could be leather too. On the center of it, a circular gemstone resembling a ruby; and below the stone, following the trail of his sternum, losing itself beneath the cummerbund, one more strap. God knows where it ends.

All of Oh Sehun's glory, there it is, and Baekhyun can't breathe.

_Stop_. 

He clears his throat. "Winsome?"

"Yes." Sehun bows slightly and the corner of his mouth quirks up. "They tend to use words like 'charming' or 'attractive', but I prefer 'winsome', the word's euphoniums, and means the same."

Licentious, too. He wants to say, but doesn't.

"What can I say? Mr. Winsome, I agree." Baekhyun giggles as he loses himself in the enthralling view.

Given his olfactory-visual synesthesia, the more he smells the heftier his migraine grows. This time, Sehun's cologne tranquilizes him despite the dramatic glittery palette.

"For real, though. I wish I could have modeled for BYEON. I'm a big enthusiast of your constructions." Sehun states and beckons him to a sofa across the room.

"Oh, please." Baekhyun chuckles. "My team tried to get in touch. Turns out you're way too expensive for a small studio like mine."

Baekhyun sees the colour of everything around them differ each second, given the wavering lighting above their heads as they sit, but Sehun's palette remains untouched.

"Really?" Sehun's eyebrows furrow. "I got quite an amount of offers, I don't-I didn't revise them all myself."

Baekhyun settles his cocktail on the narrow glowing counter on his side of the sofa after taking one more sip. He contemplates whether he should thank Sehun and end the night, or keep drinking and keep going until he can't think no more.

Sip. Sip. Sip. It's colourless again. Not his surroundings, but his head. He starts missing Sehun's tinctures, he wants to see them again.

He will stay.

"Thought so." Baekhyun glides the tip of his tongue through his upper lip. "Maybe make it up to me?"

There's a small quiescence as they stare at each other, flirting unknowingly.

"How can I?" A mischievous glare dilates Sehun's pupils.

Is this starting to get interesting?

It shouldn't.

"I've heard you're a fine dancer," Baekhyun responds, concise and sure. Too sure.

He shouldn't.

"I spent my teenage years practicing various types of dance. I don't want to be presumptuous, but I know how to move."

But he will.

Both their drinks dwell forgotten as Baekhyun stands up and motions to the dance floor.

"So, show me," he says.

Sehun's eyes grow so wide Baekhyun feels his chest tickle. Is he being too much? Too forward? Maybe, this isn't how a man makes a move on another man, but he wouldn't know. Baekhyun is married. To a woman. He has pretended to like women all his life. How would he know?

"Yeah, of course." Sehun shifts some glances across the room avoiding Baekhyun's gaze.

"What?" Baekhyun says. "Is Mr. Winsome nervous?"

Sehun rolls his eyes and snickers. "Maybe a little."

The song playing is in a foreign language none of them recognise, but the tempo is good enough for a start.

"Can I hold you?" Sehun questions before his moves spring. 

Baekhyun stares at him. At his handsome face. His harsh eyebrows, his kind eyes, his knife-like mandible, his plush lips. "Yeah," he mouths.

Sehun half smiles.

"I like your shirt," he whispers, closing the distance of his lips and Baekhyun's ear. "You made it, right?"

"I did," Baekhyun nods; tries to ignore the dangerous feeling, sharp within his gut. "what did you like about it?"

Sehun looks at him with a smug look on his face. His lips twitch a few times, perhaps, wanting to say something and failing.

So, Baekhyun decides to take action. "The puffy sleeves? The cuffs? The ruffled collar? The ribbon tie? The a–?"

"I like that I can see your piercings through it," Sehun cuts him off.

Baekhyun turns so red he's sure the blue neon lights hitting his face suddenly became purple, but he forces himself to keep his cool. He wants this night to end successfully. It has to be, or he might not be courageous enough to do it again. Ever.

"So you like the translucency of the fabric." Baekhyun grins. "It's georgette."

Sehun's throat releases a deep laugh and he rolls his eyes slowly. Then, he pulls Baekhyun closer and, as they move to the rhythm of music, runs the tips of his fingers down his spine, not far from his dance partner's bottom — but before he can carry on with his antics, Baekhyun inquiries: "What cologne do you use?"

Sehun's eyes narrow. "You like it?"

"Maybe," Baekhyun mumbles as his hips move from side to side. 

"Custom made Dior. A gift, it's not for sale," Sehun answers. "Supposedly, it just enhances my natural scent but honestly I don't know."

Baekhyun laughs. "If it works, then you got a marvelous essence."

"Thank you." Sehun licks his lips. "Are you interested in fragrances?"

"Not precisely." Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip. "I got this… condition. I'm able to see odours; it helps my creative process but when it becomes too much I get overwhelmed. That's why I asked about your cologne, it's a lovely sight." 

"That's incredible," Sehun gasped, "and now I'm sorry you're surrounded by this stinky turmoil."

"It's fine," Baekhyun chuckles. "You made it better."

Idle chatter about themselves, about others, about anything, about everything. Baekhyun didn't know South Korea's top male model could be such an open, dashing, sapient being. Beside Sehun, Baekhyun felt like the most uninteresting organism, full of secrets and buried emotions.

Once the music switches to one of those rowdy, awkward tunes, they jump and move their way out of the dance floor.

"You weren't bluffing, I see," Baekhyun chuckles and speaks near Sehun's earlobe, pushing himself up with the help of his toes.

"Why would I?" Sehun smiles and says, a little short on breath. "You were going to try me anyway."

"Dunno." Baekhyun catches his reflection on a ring-shaped mirror as they walk by and runs his fingers through his silver locks, fixing them, trying to. "Guess it feels like we're all faking something here. Everywhere."

Promptly after they arrive at the cocktail bar Baekhyun asks the bartender for another peachy drink. "Anything you got," he says.

"That was eerie," Sehun grins, "but you're not wrong."

"What?” He takes the glass placed in front of him seconds ago.

"That we're all faking something," Sehun says.

Baekhyun's shoulders slump immediately, even if he tries to keep a blank facial expression.

"What are you faking?" It's a question he didn't expect, yet, doesn't make him feel too distressed.

"You don't want to know," Baekhyun takes a sip and gulps a little too hard.

"Ah, you bet I do." Sehun sounds so gentle. "If you tell me your secret I'll tell you mine." Baekhyun doesn't deserve gentleness, not Sehun's.

He shrugs, not looking up, he can't look up. "Okay." Baekhyun straightens his spine. "But let's go over there." He moves his hand in a wavering motion, signaling to the corridor at least four couples have gone into, takes one large sip of his glass and they, too, go.

Walking, passing by hundreds of recognizable faces, Baekhyun is sure something is wrong with him because why isn't he terrified?

Sehun is good company, amazing company, really, but he's also an openly gay man. Baekhyun should be scared to death of being seen with him this close.

Nonetheless, this evening Baekhyun hasn't been acting the way he usually does, so even though he should be feeling another way, he's glad he doesn't.

"This stairwell leads to the bedrooms?" Baekhyun lifts one eyebrow and draws a sly smile over his face.

Sehun's fingertips find Baekhyun's ribbon tie and pull in an attempt to get him closer, however, all the action does is unlace the ribbon, leaving the skinny strap hanging on his neck.

"Maybe," Sehun titters blissfully. "You're telling me now?"

Pondering about the effect the truth would have on their recent bond, Baekhyun figures a little more time will do no harm.

So, hauling Sehun's waist against his own body, Baekhyun replies: "No."

It has been a long time since he has kissed anyone, much less a man, but he supposes it's the same as kissing Yeonseo. The difference is that this time he wants, needs, craves.

"Can I?" he mutters only a couple centimetres away from Sehun's face.

"Been waiting all night."

Within seconds, wanton lips crash like a stormy, boisterous thunder. At least, that's how it feels for Baekhyun.

Sehun's hands travel from his shoulders to his neck. Fabric to skin. Long, soft, exquisite. Splendid to kiss.

"You taste like peach," Sehun whispers against Baekhyun's open mouth.

"Like it?"

"Yeah. I like you." They don't wait another second.

All the sentiments Baekhyu kept hidden under the bed begin creeping in, demolishing each and every attempt of being 'normal', consuming his soundness. Is this how kissing someone you like feels like? Or maybe, he's having a seizure?

He doesn't know, but that's okay.

Every-fucking-thing is finally okay.

✧ ✧ ✧

Given Sehun's laughter, it's obvious he thinks Baekhyun is messing with him.

"Here," Baekhyun says, pulls his phone out of his back pocket and shows him a picture of his wedding day, "her name is Yeonseo."

Sehun freezes, then let's his eyes linger over the screen.

Baekhyun wore a simple, black tuxedo. Clean, incomplex. His wife, though… Sehun probably doesn't have the lexical ability or semantics to even try to explain everything that's going on there. All he can say is: it's not white.

"I didn't design that, and it took me two and a half years to pay for it," Baekhyun says.

Beyond the fact that the gown is unbelievable, Sehun's struck by the fact that Baekhyun is a married man. Seemingly, a straight married man.

"Let me explain." Baekhyun stares at him hoping to see any kind of emotion. Not the poker face he's pulling right now.

"The fashion industry is very acceptant," Sehun mutters, interrupts, almost all to himself.

"Yeah, well, too bad my mother doesn't know a tad about fashion." Baekhyun responds as his nose wrinkles.

Sehun can tell this is not his favourite topic to talk about. It takes only a split second to visualize the layout of Baekhyun's entanglements. People making people's life rougher than it's supposed to be, baffle him.

"Ah, makes sense," Sehun says. His gaze softens.

"She almost caught me once." Baekhyun grins. "One week after, she introduced me to a bunch of girls she knew from church. That's how I met Yeonseo."

Sehun grew up in a world built for him. Most of his opportunities were handed on a gold plate, but he worked hard to keep his status high. The highest.

Nonetheless, his sexuality was something everyone he cared about accepted. Being who he is, was never a burden.

"Yeonseo, your wife." His mouth twitches. "You said she's okay with this."

"She is. She's known all along," Baekhyun says.

"All along is a long time."

"Yeah." Baekhyun looks away. "Yeonseo's watched over me since we met, she's been selfless, she agreed to help me cover it up with no catch."

As Baekhyun speaks, Sehun grows more uncomfortable. He wonders if many people have tried to help Baekhyun 'with a catch'.

"But I guess… now you're planning to come out," Sehun says; follows, because really, he needs to pay more attention to his milieu.

Baekhyun takes a deep breath.

"I am."

Given everything Baekhyun has been through, at least what he has vented, Sehun thinks he sounds fearless, some people would say reckless, even.

"So… you don't care about your mother's opinion anymore," he asks.

The interim for an answer is longer than expected. Laconism among cacophony. The outcry of Sehun's gala kisses them goodbye and forsakes wearing colossal steps.

"She passed away three weeks ago."

✧ ✧ ✧

"I'm looking for a start. One person, one time," Baekhyun murmurs. "Just that, nothing more."

Sehun tilts his head and presses his lips together. "Nothing more. Sounds easier than it is," he says.

"You think?"

"I've been there." A sudden grin emerges. "But, you know… I might know a guy."

Baekhyun's eyebrows furrow and he asks, more enthusiastic than intended: "you do?"

"Mhm. I'm sure he'll be interested if you make the proposal."

"How can you be so sure? Is he here?" Baekhyun looks around as he tries to tone down his excitement. He fails.

"Yes." Sehun sighs, then drops: "it's me."

For a few seconds Baekhyun is waiting for Sehun to laugh loudly and say he's joking, but it doesn't happen that way. Instead, Sehun nervously plays with his fingers, looking way more adorable than a twenty-four years old man should.

"You're messing with me," Baekhyun finally says.

"No, of course not." Sehun's furrowed eyebrows and a prominent pout appear instantly.

"Why-why would you want to–" Baekhyun stutters "–you can get anyone, anyone you want tonight." And every other night.

Sehun places his half empty glass on the colourful neon table, leans forward to meet Baekhyun's gaze closer.

"Let me ask you a question, can I?" he inquiries.

Baekhyun doesn't know what the question is, yet he's concerned about what the answer might be. However, he just nods, accepting the interrogation.

Sehun clears his throat before starting.

"Why do you think I invited you to this party?" He lifts both his eyebrows. "We never worked together, we never spoke, we never... did anything. I threw a party for whoever wanted to go a week ago, but I invited you here, to the private one." Baekhyun sees he kind of has a point, but doesn't understand what the point is. "So, why?"

Baekhyun didn't expect a weird trivia game to ruin the entire night. What if Sehun tells him he got invited truly by accident, but was too ashamed and nice to uninvite him.

"I don't know, I told you before. I have no clue." Baekhyun sighs.

Before transforming into a smile, Sehun's lips go through the stage of wanting to hide his delightfulness and showing it lucidly. "Well, let me enlighten you, peach," he says. "You're here because I want to get to know you… _intimately_."

Baekhyun's jaw drops so fast it's nearly impossible for Sehun to keep a straight face. His eyes widen and his lips part and then close, repeatedly.

"I didn't know you have a wife, I assumed you were as homosexual as I am and I was right… but your life's more complex than that," Sehun continues, noticing the stupefaction on Baekhyun's face. "I still want to fuck you, though, or get fucked by you." He shrugs.

When Baekhyun's head wraps up around the idea that this is really happening, a wave of sureness and confidence washes him whole. He gets up from the chair and leans forward, looking straight at Sehun's eyes as the tip of his index finger settles under his chin.

"So, what are we waiting for?"

✧ ✧ ✧

Having sneaked out of the main floor successfully, Sehun shows Baekhyun the way to his bedroom.

They walk past numerous impressionist paintings. Sehun explains, one of his high school best friends paints them, and those were exclusively made for his house, with exact measurements and color palette.

Baekhyun promises to stop by his gallery someday, until Sehun tells him Kim Junmyeon is based on Barcelona.

"But we can visit him someday, I'll lead the way," Sehun says.

Baekhyun remains mute.

The parade is not long, and as soon as they arrive, Sehun holds the door open as Baekhyun makes his way into the suite. None of them saying a word, both wander around the room searching for something to ease the tension.

"I think you're the first model who doesn't have their pictorials all over the walls," Baekhyun says, too loud for the quiescence. "Sorry. Got used to the volume downstairs."

"Yeah. Silence is odd now." Sehun walks towards the bench in front of his bed and sits without making a noise. "Feels awkward to see my face everywhere. I feel I'm being watched by own self, it's scary."

As Baekhyun roams, Sehun observes him. He looks stunning under the pallid light. Younger, too, softer.

"Didn't know you were wearing eye makeup," Sehun says.

"I didn't know the lighting would be so fluorescent," Baekhyun chuckles while walking towards the small bibliotheca Sehun's room has, "otherwise I would have gone for something bolder."

"I like this color on you, though." Sehun gets up and follows him. "Fits the way you taste."

Baekhyun peeps over the large book he grabbed seconds ago from a shelf. Sehun's gaze is stronger now that they're alone. Baekhyun is sure, it could eat him alive and leave no trace of his existence. So he goes back to the book, opening it and glancing at the pages, not really paying attention but avoiding Sehun.

The earliest warning of a first step unveils when Sehun shuffles to the massive bow window and closes the curtains in one go. Intimacy. Privacy. Now he recalls, what they're doing isn't right, especially for Baekhyun.

He places the book back on the shelf, takes a few steps to the side and plops down on the black and gold cabriole chair.

All of his confidence is gone. All of it. Sehun's gonna hate him.

"For what I see I'm doing a forlorn attempt at easing your nerves, peach," Sehun says as he approaches Baekhyun.

When he gets there, he pulls himself down to his knees and looks up at Baekhyun. One of his hands travel all the way to his cheek, as the other remains steady over his knees. "It's okay to change your mind."

Baekhyun shuts his eyes and tilts his head to the side, only a little, enough to get his mouth on Sehun's palm and caress himself with it. "No. Just kiss me." He pleads.

His half opened mouth breathes on Sehun's skin, his lips pout and kiss little by little, every inch of his palm.

"Heavens, you're gonna drive me insane. Aren't you?" Sehun's voice trembles.

"I'll try my best." Baekhyun regains confidence as soon as he realizes Sehun hasn't changed, he's still considerate, kindhearted, noble. He still likes him.

They help each other getting up, and from the moment they're on their feet they let themselves melt into the other's arms. Skimming mouths, grazing skin, crumbling emotions. Everything at once to leave them with less than nothing underneath.

They try walking to the bed, closed eyes and busy lips, but it's no easy task when their hearts are burning inside out.

Stumbling over furniture, tripping with their own feet, they make it out to the wall beside one of the nightstands and stay there for awhile. Baekhyun trapped between the wall and Sehun's big frame.

"Thank the gay gods I'm doing this with the hottest man alive." Baekhyun presses light open mouthed kisses down Sehun's cheek, jaw, neck, then goes back to his lips.

"Yeah, thank the gay gods," Sehun moans before taking his lips again.

The georgette of Baekhyun's shirt rubs against Sehun's mildly exposed chest blazing a pyre of hunger, yearning for the unknown feeling of Baekhyun being his for a night.

"Off," Sehun grunts and tries to take the shirt off of Baekhyun's body.

"On the back."

"Huh?"

Baekhyun struggles to turn around. "The zipper's on the back."

Sehun undoes the zip clumsily. He's too eager, and it is about to get worse –or better–.

"Oh my God."

The shirt falls to the carpet revealing two rose gold barbells, with very small beads, linked by a thin, tiny chain of the same colour. It's about the same shade of Baekhyun's nipples.

Sehun will lose it.

"You like them?" Baekhyun asks, running his fingertips through Sehun's exposed chest and feels his hands ignite at the touch.

"Yeah, very much." Sehun gulps, still staring at the lustrous pieces. "Come on."

Keeping the grasp of their hands, Sehun beckons him to the bed.

They stare at each other for a second that passes too slow. With lust pouring from their skin, Baekhyun starts seeing a vague shade of yellow. The taste and smell of alcohol linger on his tongue but it's not enough to cover up the lewd trace of their excitement.

"Let me take care of you tonight," Sehun mumbles and pushes Baekhyun lightly over the cobalt satin sheets.

Baekhyun gives in, lounging on his back and looking forward to whatever Sehun wants to do to him.

"God, you're lovely."

Baekhyun blushes hard and squeezes his hands taking the sheets into his fists, making Sehun chuckle.

"Incredibly lovely," he mouths to himself.

Finally, Sehun lowers down, sinking his knees on the mattress, restraining Baekhyun's thighs with his own and darting his lips to Baekhyun's collarbones. 

"Yes," Baekhyun mumbles, "yes, yes, yes."

Unable to get enough of Baekhyun's skin, Sehun heaves from place to place, not leaving an inch untouched. Baekhyun moans, sighs, and Sehun hasn't done much, really.

It's the feeling of freedom. The feeling of peace. The feeling of truth.

It's not all about the touches, the desire, the sex; it's about Baekhyun being a man and being turned on by another man. It's about letting himself know he's on his way to happiness.

Clothes off, whimpers, twitches and some scratches after, Baekhyun sits between Sehun's legs.

"Do you- do you think this can stay on?” he brushes the tips of his fingers against the fabric of Sehun's jockstrap –connected to the harness by three thun straps on each side. "I've never…" he pauses reluctantly, "it might be a little much for me."

Sehun, keeping his eyes fixated on Baekhyun's, purses his lips in an attempt of hiding a smile.

"Come here." He pushes himself up a few centimeters with the help of his elbows.

Baekhyun hesitates. Maybe, he should just keep going. Fuck him, get what he wanted and leave — but Sehun is looking at him so lenient. If he didn't know better, Baekhyun would say he's already infatuated.

"Prithee, Peach?" Sehun jokes.

Baekhyun grunts, gives in and crawls on Sehun's lap as the latter sits up and rests his palms, one on Baekhyun's lower back and the other on his thighs.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I have never been in your place but I understand, and I will not obligate you to do anything you don't want to do," Sehun mutters.

It takes a few seconds and one long breath for Baekhyun to respond. "I'm not afraid of you."

Sehun shuts his eyes close when Baekhyun begins stroking the back of his head.

"I'm afraid of how's this gonna change everything." Baekhyun lets his fingertips travel, wander around Sehun's body. "I-I'm not cheating on Yeonseo forever. She knows, and I know where this leads… this-this we're doing now... I need it." He finally looks up. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready."

As little as they know each other, Sehun has seen quite a variety of facets on Baekhyun, but not this fragile, this vulnerable.

"If you allow me an opinion," Sehun asks, and Baekhyun nods. "I think you have been ready for a long time, for this, to be with a man. You are not ready to leave the woman who's been your best friend and companion for so many years."

Baekhyun rubs his eyes, wants to speak, but his mouth doesn't open nor emit any sound. 

"Yeah. You're right," he says.

It should be a strange silence, but wrapped around the other's arms makes each of them feel reassured.

Until Baekhyun tenderly rubs Sehun's stomach, making him giggle a bit.

"You got a pretty thin waist. Kinda like a girl." He presses his lips on Sehun's neck.

"Please, don't think of me as a woman." Sehun looks at him and pouts.

Baekhyun snorts. "Never."

Slamming his lips against Sehun's, Baekhyun initiates a new kiss. More impatient. Fervent. Touchy. Hot.

It's marigold and shimmer, quite similar to Sehun's. Baekhyun is certainly not surprised Sehun and sex got a congruent representation.

✧ ✧ ✧

"You're young to be retiring." Baekhyun taps his pinky finger against the side of his upper lip, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and his elbow on the pillow.

Sehun looks really pretty from that angle. Fluttery lashes battling against messy strands of hair eager to poke his eyes, bubblegum tainted cheeks, swollen flushed lips.

His post-sex look is something out of this world. A goddamn wet dream. 

"I started young. I think it's fair," Sehun says.

The way he looks that instant… Baekhyun is fighting hard to keep his tongue and teeth away from Sehun's exposed neck.

"How young?" he asks, shifting his eyes to the crumpled beige bed sheets.

Thinking of what's underneath.

_Glory_. That's underneath.

Dear Lord, that's not helping.

"How young…" Sehun repeats, then hums. "You know the Recreos baby?"

Baekhyun reminiscences the time when his younger brother would watch the legendary Recreos TV commercial like it was his favourite cartoon. A couple of seconds later, he nods.

"That's me, that's how young it started for me." Sehun grins, closes his eyes and sighs.

Baekhyun's surprise doesn't last much. Without a doubt, Sehun's family was, is and will be huge in the fashion industry for a long time. It was only too obvious his first daycare project was a television ad.

"Of course. Oh Sunhwa is your mother." He rolls his eyes.

Better known as Oh Sun, Sehun's mother is one of the most beautiful and important models of South Korea's history. Nobody knows with exactitude who his father is, but everybody knows the man is almost royalty. All of his siblings are involved and successful in the fashion industry too. To put it short, Oh Sehun is not the average celebrity. He is The Celebrity.

"My first word ever was 'camera', no joke." Sehun giggles.

"And at twenty-four," Baekhyun says, "you're a veteran model."

"A millionaire veteran model, please," Sehun corrects.

The black leather harness is still there, its grand ruby gracefully posing, reflecting the light of the lamps at their sides, shining and fascinating Baekhyun to the degree of not being able to look away.

"Yeah, I can see that," he mutters.

Before any of them say another word, Baekhyun leans in and kisses Sehun on the lips. Chastely, softly. The way he'd like to kiss a lover, someday.

Small, innocent pecks all over the other's lips. Not needing profoundness, not passion. Only a glimpse of devotion.

Sehun is the one to break the kiss, opening his eyes and staring at Baekhyun's features. He lifts one of his hands to caress his cheek. It's full. Feels smooth, and rounded under his touch.

"You're cute," Sehun blurts.

Baekhyun is powerless beneath the tenderness. There's a pool of something in his chest, loading and almost overflowing.

What is he supposed to do when he feels this much?

He's never grasped for more than the necessary affection, he doesn't know how to get rid of the itch on his body demanding for Sehun. And he's frightened because the night will end, the sun will rise and he, too, will have to go back to his ordinary life. One where Sehun isn't there.

Who's gonna touch Baekhyun so kind if it isn't him?

How's Baekhyun gonna deal with this dream being over?

He doesn't know. He doesn't want to.

Sehun shifts his body, getting closer to Baekhyun's warmth. He adjusts his position and presses his cheek on Baekhyun's chest.

"Get some sleep, peach." Sehun fixes a tiny peck right on top of his heart. "Sweet dreams."

Everything's okay, again.

All will be okay.

✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning, Sehun opens his eyes to realize half of his bed is empty. He didn't expect Baekhyun to stay, after all, he made clear what he needed was a one time thing, a first experience so he wouldn't dive in completely unskilled. Still, Sehun wishes Baekhyun would have changed his mind.

Meeting the designer had been a one of a kind experience. Like gazing at a radiant shooting star.

Getting to know Baekhyun, just a tiny bit, made Sehun realize all the things he had been ignoring and were important to his personal development.

Minutes after his pupils have adapted to the sunlight, he notices the kind of crumpled receipt of the parking lot on the nightstand, now folded in half, with an inscription on the inside.

_"Thank you"_ It says.

And it's signed:_ "Peach" _

His lips twitch and curl into a beam.

Sehun wishes, once again, Baekhyun hadn't left so early.

Sehun would have given him a morning kiss, borrowed some of his clothes, made breakfast, given him some more kisses, helped him shower, taken him to the airport, given him one, or ten goodbye kisses…

Maybe, Sehun would have been brave enough to ask him to stay for longer. Days, weeks, a life if it worked out, but it's way too early to say.

Later that morning, after a warm bath, the receipt lands in the nightstand, hidden between the pages of his personal agenda. To remind Sehun of Baekhyun. That it's not over.

One day, when the waters are calm, Sehun plans on looking for him. He knows the way they felt –because he's sure Baekhyun felt it too– wasn't unexceptional, and he wants more of it.

However, for now, he'll have to move on.

And wait.

✧ ✧ ✧

If Baekhyun sees one more asymmetrical table trying to pose as 'original', he's going to get a stomachache.

Nine months ago, after Harper's Bazaar got the exclusive of Baekhyun's coming out story –and divorce–, BoF Magazine made BYEON the cover of their September issue, and interviewed Baekhyun about how his synesthesia helps dynamizing his compositions, requests have been falling from the sky as if raindrops in a storm.

He's not complaining, but he wishes he could take a break of more than fifteen minutes every twelve hours. Maybe then, he wouldn't get so utterly upset about a sculptural table he personally ordered.

"Sir, it's time for lunch." His assistant's quiet voice echoes within the bleached empty lounge Baekhyun has been remodeling for half a week.

"I gotta get this done first. Please, reschedule to… an hour from now," Baekhyun says. "And, Zitao, my name's _still_ not 'Sir'; call me Baekhyun."

"Okay, _Baekhyun_, but no, _Baekhyun_. You're eating right now. I made a reservation at Cacao, they're expecting you in twenty."

"You know I'm your boss, right?" Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow. "Reschedule."

"You know I'm not getting paid if my boss dies of starvation, right?” Zitao chides. "This room isn't going anywhere, it'll be here when you come back."

Before Baekhyun can say another word he's being dragged involuntarily out of the building.

He would lie if he said he enjoys the intrusion his assistant constantly pulls on him, but he knows the young man does it out of respect and admiration. Zitao is not only a good assistant, he's a clever designer as well, and Baekhyun is trying to show him the ropes so one day he becomes his competitor.

"There's a car waiting for you," Zitao says, "I don't trust you driving with an empty stomach."

Baekhyun huffs and rolls his eyes as Zitao tugs at his coral dress shirt to get him in the elevator. The lift takes less than twenty seconds to get to the first floor, so there isn't enough time for chatting, but it's enough to make Baekhyun anxious, because he should be up there looking at his Colour Guide and searching for a colour for the curtains. Yellow. But, Golden Yellow or Napoli Yellow?

"Good luck!" Boisterously chirping, Zitao picks him out of his thoughts.

Baekhyun's eyebrows furrow. "What?" he asks, increasing the pitch of his voice.

The elevator stops.

"Good luck on your lunch," Zitao chuckles. Then the silvery doors slide open. "Auf wiedersehen!"

He shoves Baekhyun out of the metallic cage and winks at him before mouthing: "you're welcome," and pressing the button to go up again.

Now remind Baekhyun why hasn't he fired Zitao? One cannot be so distracted and so cryptic at the same time, for God's sa–

"_Peach_," someone says, and the faintest tint of pastels reverberate on the corners of his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> to the prompter: sweetie, I am so sorry but I hope you enjoy at least a bit! :D
> 
> to all readers: immense thank yous for taking the time to read my story. love you ♥


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